


Understanding

by Camfield



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 07:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camfield/pseuds/Camfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title: Understanding<br/>Rating: PG<br/>Verse: G1<br/>Characters: Jazz, Prowl<br/>Warnings: Canon Character Death<br/>Other Notes: Author notes that they were inspired by Flowers and Dreamscape.  Winner in the Dreamscape challenge!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Understanding

They don’t understand it; when they watch Prowl bring Jazz Energon in the rec room every evening, then leave.

Not once has he ever stayed, nor has he missed a day since it just began so many years ago. Even when he was injured, to the point of missing a whole half of his body, he’d crawled, crawled across the Ark, to drag a cube of Energon over to Jazz. The saboteur just smiling gently and staying seated, not offering to help even when a shaky hand spilled near to half of the cube. Watching as the one armed, one legged Praxian hauled himself back out. Serenly answering Ratchet’s bellows of rage as the medic threw him over a white shoulder to haul back to the med bay.

They don’t understand the soft laugh that will lilt out of Jazz’s now frequently used office, even as they watch Prowl place a single bloom on the cluttered desk. Doorwings soft and full of movement as they flutter gently, even though the rest of him is stock straight and rigid as he leaves the room.

Too different, it’s all anyone ever says. They’re too different. What does Jazz even see in uptight Prowl anyway?

“Bet it’s just so he doesn’t get in trouble when he pulls his pranks.”

“I say he has to be a great ‘face, it’s always the quiet ones, you know.”

Ratchet just shakes his helm at them, and says it’s because they are just the same. Ignoring the way they look at him with confused optics.

Sideswipe walks in on them, once, early in the rec room. Soft noises coming from the couch as he watches them kiss each other with infinite sweetness, infinite caring. His form hidden in the shadows though he has no doubts that Jazz knows he is there.

Everyone just shakes their helm, no way straight laced Prowl would be caught dead doing that in the rec room, but Sideswipe knows what he saw.

He is oddly quiet in the conversations about them after that.

The Prime will smile, one of his secret smiles, and say nothing, which is just as telling as if he spoke the world. Acknowledging their comments with his serene sort of way that left you feeling a little admonished, even if you don’t yet know from what.

Then in a blink of an eye everything changed and it was no longer Prowl and Jazz, just Jazz. He would walk around in a daze. Waiting in the rec room every night for Energon that wouldn’t come. Sitting in his office, waiting for a single bloom that would never be delivered. Ignoring his surviving friends as he stared off into the distance, optics blank as he looked right through them. Not even responding to Blaster, the boom box almost frantic in his efforts to get Jazz to interact, to fuel again.

Those who remember, pair understanding and pity as they watch him.

oooOOOooo

 

He sat, limp in his chair. Head lolled back to rest on the top of the chair, fingers twitching. There was nothing for him left here, and both he and Rodimus knew it. Rodimus had his own inner circle, Jazz was obsolete, something that should have hurt more than it did.

“Don’ yah tell me yah already gone Prowler, thatcha didn’ wait for meh.”

He felt a brush of air over his audial horns and leaned back, trying to press into the sensation.

“I would wait eons for you, and refuse Primus himself if I had to do so to stay by your side. Do not worry Jazz; I will be here when you are ready.”

Out of the corner of his optics, Jazz could just barely see the outline of Prowl’s frame, always disappearing if he turned to look at it head on. He sighed, shuttering his optics as the brush of air again caressed his helm.

“Sleep Jazz, so I can visit you in your dreams.”

oooOOOooo

 

We are sad to report that Autobot Jazz, former Third in Command and Special Ops agent, was found offline in his office early this cycle.


End file.
